


Crossroads

by Iketastic (flashforeward)



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Crossroads Deals & Demons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/Iketastic
Summary: There's an idea and a plan. There's success and consequences.





	Crossroads

_I._

_Plan_

 

It manifests as an experiment. Hypothesis, experiment parameters, preparation, and, soon, execution. All very scientific.

 

Except that none of this is scientific in the least.

 

_He's huddled under an awning, trying to stay out of the rain. He's not sure where he is - he was running home and not paying attention to where he was going and now he's...wherever. He knows most of Tulsa by heart by now - should, he's lived here all his life. These streets have been his playground for as long as he can remember. But today, in the wet and the cold, he has no idea where he's wound up._

 

_But at least he's somewhat dry. That's what matters._

 

He's filled up two books with notes and plans. The tome that had started it all is marked up now. Underlining, margin notes, whatever he needed to do to make sure he does this right. He supposes 'doing this right' would actually be 'not doing it at all' but he's come so far that has stopped being an option.

 

Almost. He just has to tell his brothers.

 

After that, there will be no going back.

 

_The door behind him opens and a rush of cold air hits his back and he shivers and pulls away except a hand falls on his shoulder and pulls him_ in. 

 

_"Hell you doing out there?" a voice asks, hoarse and quiet. "Catch your death, running out in the wet."_

 

_He thinks about pointing out that he hadn't been running and, in fact, he was probably more likely to_ catch his death  _here in the air-conditioning than he had been huddling under the awning. But his teeth are chattering too hard and all he can do is look at the old man who decided he needed to freeze dry._

 

_He's hunched over a cane. Thick white hair tumbles down to his shoulders and thicker whiter eyebrows shadow his eyes. He's got his lips pressed tight together as he takes in the boy before him. "What brings you to my doorstep, eh?" he asks._

 

_"Just trying to stay dry Mr."_

 

_"Emrys," the man says, waving a hand. "Call me Emrys. Ain't my name but I can't rightly recall what is so it'll do. And you, boy?"_

 

_"I...I...Isaac." A hearty sneeze follows this admittance, as if his body is protesting the revelation of his name._

 

_Isaac can't imagine_ why _that thought occurs to him_ .

 

"No."

 

Taylor.

 

"What is it"

 

Zac.

 

"Forget about it we aren't doing it."

 

Taylor.

 

"What  _is it_ ?"

 

Zac.

 

"Boys! If you don't keep it down in there, so help me!"

 

Mom.

 

The argument is over for the night, but despite Taylor's protests and Zac's confusion, Isaac is still pretty sure he can convince them.

 

They all want it, after all. Fame. Fortune. 

 

Why not get it with less of the hard work?

 

_"Feeling warmer?" Emrys asks. He made them each a cup of tea. Isaac hasn't actually had any of his, but holding the mug close to his chest has definitely improved things. And he's stopped sneezing, so that's good. So he nods. "Good, good. Now come along, I have a gift for you."_

 

_Isaac wants to protest - why the hell would someone he's never met have a present for him? - but he can't deny his curiosity. The shop is a crowded used book store, full of overloaded bookshelves and toppling piles. Isaac doesn't even_ try _to follow Emrys through the maze, just waits and leaches more heat from his tea._

 

_"Here you are, my boy, just what you need," Emrys says as he reappears, far quicker than he should given his cane and the tight aisles. He holds out a thick black tome with some uncomfortable looking stains on the edges of its pages._

 

_Isaac only hesitates a moment before setting down his mug and accepting the book. "Uh, thanks," he says. "I uh. I think it's stopped raining," he says, eyes fixed on the blank cover of Emrys's...present. In his mind, the words_ curiosity killed the cat _keep replaying over and over but he cannot make himself give it back._

 

_The moment he saw it, he knew it had to be his_ .

 

"Fine." Taylor's voice. A whisper into the dark quiet of their bedroom. Isaac smiles, rolls over, and closes his eyes. Time to dream of things to come.

 

_II._

_Execution_

 

_The waiting is the hardest part_ .

 

"So we just bury it and wait?" Zac asks. "It's dark and it's cold and I want to go home why do we have to sit here and wait?"

 

"Do you want hoards of screaming fans?" Isaac asks, mostly sarcastic. None of them really want that part of the deal, they just want their music to get out.

 

"Shut up and help me dig," Taylor snaps. He's been the most reluctant , so Isaac is quick to help. He wants to keep Taylor there, keep him happy. This only works if all of them agree to it. Because they need all three of them.

 

The music doesn't work without everyone.

 

_There!_

 

The box is buried. It's dark, it's cold, and honestly Isaac wants to go home, too, and he doubts this is even going to work.

 

"You called?"

 

_This is the fun part_ .

 

She's beautiful. Long dark hair, shining green eyes. She looks too perfect to be real. Isaac blinks and shakes his head, reminding himself that she  _isn't_ .

 

"What can a girl like me do for three handsome boys like you?"

 

"We want to make music!" Zac. Of course it's Zac. Still young enough that her appearance barely phases him. Young enough to blurt out the first thing that comes into his head. Isaac's glad for him, for his youth and exuberance. It isn't enough to break the spell on Taylor and himself, but it gets them on the path they want to be on.

 

"Oh do you?" she asks. She steps close to Isaac, runs a finger down from his chest to just above his pants. He tries not to shiver, but he fails. She laughs. "Oh look at you you're going to  _burst_ ," she whispers, lips inches from his face.

 

Isaac doesn't move. He can't move.

 

She laughs again and pulls away, eyes flicking over Taylor, frozen in the background. "So you want to make music, do you?" she asks. Isaac nods. He doesn't know what Zac or Taylor do, but her smile grows and he's starting to think this might have been a terrible idea. 

 

"Stand in a semi circle and hold out your hands." They do as she says and she brings her sharp red finger nails down across their palms, cutting slashes in each of them. Then she meets Isaac's eyes again as she brings her finger to her lips and licks the blood from the nail. "There," she says, "we have a pact." She turns on her heel and waves at them over her shoulder, "enjoy it while it lasts, boys," she calls before she disappears into the dark and the cold.

 

_II._

_Result_

 

"We did it!" Zac cheers. "We really did it, it  _worked_ !"

 

Isaac smiles and ruffles Zac's hair, trying not to meet Taylor's gaze as they listen to their own song playing on the radio. Sure it's a hometown station, but it's also accompanied by the announcement that they signed with a record company. It really is real. It really did work.

 

Isaac isn't sure anymore if that's a good thing . And he knows Taylor never thought it was a good idea in the first place and he can't take the judgment in those blue eyes right now. So he tries to focus on Zac's excitement and not the gnawing worry in his gut.

 

Because if this is the high, he's terrified to know when the low will come.

 

And what it will bring.

 

_IV._

_Consequence_

 

_**Tragedy Strikes Tulsa's Own** _

 

_ Last night, while flying home from their  most recent tour, the private Jet Isaac, Taylor, and Zachary Hanson were flying in went down, crashing in the mountains. The wreckage is still being picked through, but it is unlikely anyone survived. Tulsa is saddened to lose three of its own. _

 

Emrys hums to himself as he cuts the article out, adding it to his scrapbook. This one was so  _ easy _ but still so  _ satisfying _ . Really he's  _ proud _ of how well he's able to read people now, how quickly he could pick up on Isaac Hanson's greatest desire.

 

Everybody needs a hobby, and Emrys is getting very good at his.


End file.
